Unlike a Fairy Tale
by Keruri-chan
Summary: Bulma didn't get her fairy tale or her Prince Charming. What she got was so much better. She just needed to realize.


_Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z or _You're Still the One _by Shania Twain._

Author's Note: I was in the mood to write something romantic, and when my Winamp screwed up and this song got stuck on repeat for a good hour ot so, I decided to put it to use. I didn't realize until the end that there is absolutely no conversing in this fic whatsoever, but I think that it makes more of a first-person point of view, and makes it a bit more introspective. I also like the whole "fairy tale" aspect that kept popping up. Random, but I still like it.

* * *

_Unlike a Fairy Tale_

It is common knowledge that many fairy tales begin with the cliché "Once upon a time..." and that most stories that start in such a way are either actual fairy tales, parodies, or have reason to begin with such words. This is such a story that could leap into "Once upon a time..." head-first with reason, because the area below appeared as though it had fallen out of a fairy tale.

The area itself was almost as cliché as "Once upon a time..." itself. The forest was lush and green with a clear blue stream winding its way through the woods and beside a tall escarpment. All it lacked was a path leading to a glorious castle and some bluebirds who sang songs of happiness.

If the forest was the fairy tale joy, then the woman flying overhead in her aircar was surely the dark menace that the people in the fairy tale must defeat to restore peace, order, and beauty to their land. This isn't to say that the woman was an evil person, for she was considerate and loving, albeit extremely stubborn, but her mood was black and her mind was in a furious turmoil, so much so that she didn't even notice the scene below. She didn't glance downwards even once; on the contrary, she steered her car higher into the sky, the vehicle almost going straight up at a ninety degree angle, and heading directly towards an overhanging cliff.

The aircar sped through the air, reaching the car's top speeds and showing no sign of slowing down. The aircar was a family vehicle, but there was only one person inside as it careened around the cliff, just barely missing the peak, and came to a rocky canyon.

It was the exact opposite of the valley below. The area was littered with boulders and huge rock formations, with dry, desert-like valleys along the bottom of the canyon. But that was in the distance. Here, just over the cliff, there was only a hard, rocky ground and small, rocky hills. It wasn't nearly as spectacular as the immense canyons in the distance, but something about the area compelled Bulma Briefs to bring her aircar down for a landing only a mile or so in from the edge of the cliff.

She stepped out of her cool, air-conditioned car into the hot, dry wind. But there was something oddly refreshing about the air as it swept angrily about her, as though she was experiencing something she had once known and missed dearly. It calmed her down.

She made her way up a small but steep hill, the rocks protruding from the sides making excellent steps, and paused at the top. Even from such a small elevation, Bulma was surprised at how far she could see across the plain. It was breathtaking and depressing all at once. That the planet could create such spectacular formations from mere rock amazed her, yet the fact that there was no vegetation to be seen for miles in any direction bothered her. In such a sense, the area was sorely lacking a feature that, in Bulma's opinion, helped make Earth so beautiful.

She set her sights on a hill about three hundred feet away or so, deciding that by the time she walked to the top and back to her car, she would be calm enough to return home without creating more trouble in her rage. And so, half walking, half sliding down the other side of the rock on which she was currently standing, she made her way across the barren plain.

Her footsteps made little sound as they hit the rock, but Bulma concentrated on the noise as though her life depended on it. Focusing on her footsteps meant that she wasn't thinking about Vegeta, or the argument they'd had, or how Trunks had so shockingly, and upsettingly, gotten involved and defended his father.

Involuntarily, Bulma's mind began to wander as her steps drifted into monotony and she felt that should she scrutinize over her pace anymore, she may very well go insane. But at her first thought of home she felt her rage bubble forth inside of her.

If Trunks thinks that Vegeta is right, then that's his opinion, she tried to reason with herself. But a voice in the back of her head insisted, But he _isn't_ right! He's dead wrong!

She supposed she wouldn't be so angry if she hadn't been swept away by an underlying sexist current. Whether it truly existed or not, whether Vegeta and Trunks _really_ felt that Bra shouldn't be trained once she was old enough because she was female or not, Bulma believed that it did. And being a woman herself, she took offense.

She closed her eyes, walking blindly. It _was_ possible that Vegeta and Trunks simply didn't want Bra to become involved in the dangers being a martial artist brought. The Z Fighters went to battle to protect Earth against any and every threat that arrived without question -- and each one was stronger than the last. It was possible that they wanted to keep Bra safe, keep her out of harm's way. She was only a few months old, and Vegeta was already far more protective of her than he had ever been of Trunks.

But that then led Bulma to the sexist issue she had grabbed hold of. Why didn't they want to her become involved? Why was there such a need to keep her safe? Bulma assumed it was because Bra was a female. The Z Fighters didn't have a female member. True, Videl and ChiChi were both trained in the martial arts, but they were unable to control their ki. Videl could only fly, though it was a skill she had mastered, not create attacks, and _certainly_ not create ones strong enough to harm another. However, Bulma was unsure as to whether they had been hesitant about having a female fighter -- it would be a drastic change that would need accustoming -- or if they believed that, as a female, Bra wouldn't be an asset. Either way, it was the derogatory issue of the argument that had so enraged the blue-haired woman.

Enough, forget it, she told herself. She hadn't travelled all this way to fume about the argument -- she had gone to cool down. She blinked herself out of her thoughts and was surprised to see that her cliff was only a handful of yards away from her. She looked over her shoulder, flustered that she had walked almost the entire distance without realizing.

This hill, Bulma realized as she approached, was higher than the first but not as steep, and she easily made her way to the very top. The other side was like a wall with a ledge about a quarter of the way down, but as she looked down a wave of familiarity splashed down on her, and for a split second an old memory returned to her. It was gone instantaneously, too quickly for Bulma to even grasp what the memory was.

She turned around and lowered herself down towards the ledge. She held onto the top with her hands, her body flat against the rock, and dropped down. It was a higher drop than Bulma had anticipated, and a sharp pain shot through her left foot as it hit the ledge, and for a few moments she wondered in horror if she would be able to make it back to her aircar. But, upon travelling part-way up her calf, the pain faded away.

She turned and examined the ledge and the area beyond that was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. A patch of grass grew several feet away, at the very bottom of the rock, the only green anywhere, forming a triangular shape -- narrow at one end, but gradually widening. Bulma was intrigued. It was odd that grass should grow on rock, and she wondered briefly if someone had once tried to construct something there, had dug up the rock, but given up and opted for a more urbanized area. But that too seemed almost impossible, for the ground didn't seem to be made up of millions of rocks, but one gigantic one that spread for miles. Digging up this area would be a highly difficult and expensive task. But she did notice that the area where the grass grew seemed slightly sunkun compared to the rest of the ground.

She turned to her right and saw a curve in the wall at the edge of the ledge, the curve lowering as it came around from the back wall from which Bulma had dropped to the front of the ledge. Another memory flashed in her mind, this one clearer and lasting long enough for her to retain some of what she had seen.

Of course, she thought with a smile. This was where Trunks had defeated Frieza. Not her Trunks, not the one from her time, but the one who had visited from the future. The one who had warned her and her friends about the arrival of the Androids. The one who, essentially, saved their lives. And that curve had been the rock they had all crowded behind to watch the stranger do away with the tyrant effortlessly without being seen. And the grass, Bulma suddenly realized, must be the result of a ki blast. Ki could easily turn rock to rubble, and an attack could just as easily blow it away and expose dirt.

There was something significant about this place, Bulma could feel it. But what was significant, she didn't know. It was something more exciting than just watching Trunks destroy Frieza, something deeper than knowing it had been Trunks who allowed her to live. And not just her. Goku and Yamcha and Vegeta.

Vegeta....

_Looks like we made it_ _  
Look how far we've come, my baby_ _  
We mighta took the long way_ _  
We knew we'd get there someday_

She had fallen in love with Vegeta shortly after Trunks' arrival, hadn't she? And news of the Androids had encouraged Vegeta to stay on Earth, hadn't it? And... hadn't it been on this very ledge that Bulma had found her eyes glued to Vegeta, even moreso than the battle, and caught herself thinking that he was actually a very attractive man, even in a pink shirt and yellow pants? She hadn't fallen in love with him at that moment, in fact she still had a deep dislike for him, but had it possibly been a starting? She hadn't objected to him remaining at the Capsule Corporation to train for the Androids, she'd actually welcomed him!

At the same time, the area reminded her of Yamcha. She recalled they'd been dating at the time, and remembered guiltily that as she'd been staring at Vegeta, his arm had pulled her closer to him; he'd wanted to protect her. She remembered yelling at him to take her with him as the warriors took to the sky, which had ensued in an argument much later over her safety and bold behaviour. He hadn't wanted to take her or include her because he had been scared for her safety. It was, though, one of the last arguments they'd had, though Bulma wasn't sure if that was why she remembered it so well, or if the feeling of disregard she had felt was so strong everything surrounding it made a lasting impact.

_They said, "I'll bet they'll never make it"_ _  
But just look at us holdin' on_ _  
We're still together, still goin' strong_

She remembered the argument that ended everything all too well: How Bulma had tried to use the "It's not you, it's me" excuse to end the relationship, but by the end of it Yamcha knew it was really a "It's not you, it's Vegeta" problem; how Yamcha had been struck dumb when Bulma finally admitted that she was in love with Vegeta; how pained his expression had been when her will crumbled and she'd finally looked back at him over her shoulder.

Unlike a fairy tale, where the good guy always gets the girl, Bulma didn't turn around and go running back to Yamcha. Unlike a fairy tale, Yamcha didn't live "Happily ever after," but then Bulma didn't exactly meet the criteria either, for she and Vegeta had more than their fair share of fights. Unlike a fairy tale, Bulma didn't get her Prince Charming, only a prince.

She sighed as she remembered how doubtful everyone had been of their relationship. With the exception of Goku, who was seemingly accepting of everything, all of her friends doubted that Vegeta was capable of love. It pained her to realize that he had proved their doubts on many occasions: Watching as her aircar spun out of control and avoided crash only thanks to her son from the future, speaking to her harshly and demanding things, if he bothered to talk to her at all, training his days away in isolation in his gravity room.... But Bulma knew that he loved her, even if it wasn't exactly in the way she would have liked, and she loved him completely in return.

_(You're still the one)_ _  
You're still the one I run to_ _  
The one that I belong to_ _  
You're still the one I want for life_ _  
(You're still the one)_ _  
You're still the one that I love_ _  
The only one I dream of_ _  
You're still the one I kiss goodnight_

It was an odd place to re-live romance, this brown canyon. It was deserted and tiring, and the hot, dry wind drained the area of any form of peace that it may have had. Stranger was how elated Bulma felt standing alone on the platform. Vegeta had never been an open person, and not romantic in the least. She had never had a sunset stroll along the beach with him, never lay with him on a grassy hill and admired the stars, never ate dinner by candlelight with him. But here she felt overcome by the passion that had brought them together.

It was the mix of their passion and tenacity that made their relationship all the more enchanting. It would have been all too easy to succumb to their lust for one another for a night and leave it as a fling. Bulma could have even continued along with Yamcha, the former bandit being none the wiser. But in refusing to lower themselves to the other's level and give in to something as insubstantial as fervor they found themselves being drawn together in other ways, deeper and more sufficient.

Had it been any other two people, their stubbornness would have undoubtedly ended everything: love, friendship, even tolerance. Bulma was still astounded by it. In her attempt to refrain from thinking about Vegeta, she had thought about him every minute of every day, wondered if each day would be the day that her determination would crumble and her physical needs would take over, but mostly wondered if he felt the same way. What were the chances that such a cold-hearted warrior would be capable of respecting her, albeit gruffly, and finally loving her? What were the odds?

But Bulma wasn't about to complain. Despite how angry he made her sometimes, despite how much she wished he would be more open about his feelings towards her, despite her unsupportive friends, she cared for him deeply, and was eternally grateful that he hadn't been a missed opportunity.

_Ain't nothin' better_ _  
We beat the odds together_ _  
I'm glad we didn't listen_ _  
Look at what we would be missin'_

She laughed suddenly, a loud, relieved laugh. Her anger had danced away with the wind. It was an unexpected place to find happiness and romance, not like a fairy tale in any way, shape, or form, but the ledge now held such a strong sense of sentiment for Bulma that she had no desire to leave.

But she had to, for her thoughts had lingered on one memory in particular. It was, surprisingly, not one of Vegeta, or of her son from the future, but of Yamcha. He had wanted to leave her behind, even as all the others had took to the air. Why? Not because he didn't care about her and because he'd forgotten, but because of the exact opposite. He'd wanted to keep her out of danger and ensure her safety and life no matter what happened.

And so, Bulma was sure, it was with Bra.

_They said, "I'll bet they'll never make it"_ _  
But just look at us holdin' on_ _  
We're still together, still goin' strong_

Bulma's drive back to the Capsule Corporation was a longer one, her speed much slower than it had been when she'd left in a rage. She was still thinking, driving without really seeing where she was going and unconsciously making note of landmarks and turning accordingly.

Her relationship with Vegeta was unquestionably a strong one, even with the lack of communication on many occasions. She smirked, an expression she had adopted from Vegeta's trademark. Everyone had doubted them, but they had ignored it and fought their way through, and finally come out at the end of it all, slightly battered but better people for it. Together, as a team, Bulma and Vegeta had shown them!

Bulma learned though that being right about something didn't necessarily mean that others would be accepting. Just because she and Vegeta had proved their point and continued to go strong didn't mean that Yamcha was happy about it. It took him a long while to accept the fact that he had lost Bulma, but that he had lost her to one of his most hated enemies, the man who had killed him, was something he had never welcomed.

At the same time she learned that she didn't need to friends' approval to follow her heart. Just because they thought differently didn't make them right.

_(You're still the one)_ _  
You're still the one I run to_ _  
The one that I belong to_ _  
You're still the one I want for life_ _  
(You're still the one)_ _  
You're still the one that I love_ _  
The only one I dream of_ _  
You're still the one I kiss goodnight_ _  
You're still the one_

Vegeta accepted her apology with a shrug of his shoulders. Clearly he hadn't thought it to be as serious an issue as Bulma had made it; just another squabble. There would undoubtedly be another the next day.

She lay next to him in bed that night, his arm flung loosely about her waist. She was still awake despite the late hour and his soft snores, and she watched his face as he slept. Another memory came to her, not as old as the ones she had re-lived in the canyon but not as clear. It was an image of only a second, the first time she'd seen him sleeping. An oxygen mask adorned his mouth and nose, and his body was wrapped up in bandages. The gravity room had exploded. She remembered helping him into the medical wing and working with the on-staff nurses to tend to his wounds. But once he was laying peacefully in bed she hadn't dared to touch him, and instead took to resting on the table nearby, glancing over every so often.

How far they had come since then. From inconspicuous half-glances to not needing to look at all to know that the other would always be there. The physical aspect of the relationship, the part that had started it all, was no longer the dominant trait. It was a deeply spiritual connection, as though the fates had drawn them together. As though their souls had been created together in heaven.

Just like a fairy tale.

_I'm so glad we made it_ _  
Look how far we've come my baby_

To Bulma, the right guy got the girl, she came as close to "Happily ever after" as she believed anybody could, and she got her Prince Vegeta. She had never really cared for Prince Charming, anyway.


End file.
